


An Unusual Encounter

by SilkenAmbiguity



Series: This Song is For The Rats [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Craig and Kyle become sort of maybe friends?, Developing Friendships, Gen, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 22:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17129822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilkenAmbiguity/pseuds/SilkenAmbiguity
Summary: Kyle has a panic attack in the boys washroom at school. Craig stumbles in on his breakdown.The story of how Kyle ended up sitting with Craig's gang at lunch.





	An Unusual Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Basically a brief explanation of what sparked Kyle sitting with Craig's gang at lunch in my fic This Song is For The Rats.

Craig is minding his own business, looking forward to taking a piss and emptying his strained bladder when he enters the high school bathroom. What he was not expecting was to find Kyle Broflovski mid-panic attack on the floor. He's certain it's a panic attack, because Kyle would normally never touch his perfectly laundered ass to the disgusting bathroom floor, and also because the redhead is gasping like a fish on land.

Seeing Craig seems to only worsen the smaller teen's condition, as he rasps shorter breaths and makes a strangled sound of distress. Tears start pooling in his eyes and he digs his nails into his arms.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck ohfuckohfuckohfuck,” Kyle wheezes in between gasps, squeezing his eyes shut.

Craig locks the bathroom door, making the assumption that Kyle probably doesn't want anyone else to see him in this state. If there's anything Craig knows about the ginger, it's that he's a prideful asshole. He kneels down to be on the other boy's level, cringing as his knees meet the filthy tiles.

“Hey, it's um, it's just me, Craig. You're gonna be okay,” Craig says in the softest tone he can manage.

He reaches forward to pat Kyle on the back or some shit - Craig, for all his years with Tweek, still doesn't know how to comfort people - but thinks better of it. Tweek says he doesn't like to be touched without permission when he's freaking out. Craig had to learn this the hard way, when Tweek was having a full-blown meltdown and elbowed Craig in the ribs when he tried to grab his arm.

“Not okay, nothing is okay, it's not fucking _okay_ ,” Kyle hisses, sobbing now, his fingers digging deeper into his arms as he rocks back and forth.

Craig notes that that's definitely gonna bruise. He also notices that Kyle's breathing is still steadily increasing, to the point that he's lost the ability to mutter curses anymore. Craig is fairly certain that if he keeps it up, he will pass out.

“You've gotta breathe. Do you think you can breathe with me?” Craig asks.

Kyle doesn't respond, but maybe sort of nods? It's more of a spasm than anything, but the other boy takes it as a good sign. Craig really hopes he's listening.

“Alright, we're gonna breathe in really deep through our noses,” he says, “and then hold for a moment, before breathing out nice and slow through our mouths. Starting now.”

The noirette inhales deeply through his nose, pauses for 3 seconds, and then exhales through his mouth. Kyle attempts to follow along, breath catching in his throat every now and then, a piercing headache brewing in his skull.

Eventually, his breathing evens out, and Kyle is left shivering on the bathroom floor covered in tears with weak knees.

“How.. how did you know how to do that?” he croaks.

Craig looks at him like he's an idiot, his moment of sympathy clearly behind him.

“I've been dating Tweek for like, six years, dumbass. You pick up a few things when your boyfriend has panic attacks on the daily.”

Kyle flushes red, “Fair point.”

Craig stands up, offering him a hand. Kyle takes it, stumbling and grabbing the wall for support as he rises to his feet. He scuffs his shoes awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with the noirette.

“So um, you're not gonna ask…? Or uh, tell anyone, right?” Kyle mumbles.

“Nope. You mistake me for someone who gives a shit, Broflovski,” Craig states in monotone.

Kyle nods, suddenly feeling unreasonably grateful for Craig Tucker and what an apathetic asshole he is.

“Thanks,” he offers a ghost of a smile.

“No problem,” Craig acknowledges, “You should probably deal with whatever it was you were freaking out about, though. Just a word of advice.”

Kyle rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah, I'll do that.”

They both know he's lying.

“Whatever. Fuck off so I can piss,” Craig sighs.

Kyle does just that.

* * *

The next week, Kyle starts sitting with Craig and his gang at lunch. When Stan throws a fit about it, Kyle rolls his eyes and tells him,

“You know I'm allowed to have other friends, right?”

Stan, looking like a kicked puppy, drops the subject.


End file.
